I have not eyes to see you and I have not ears to hear you,
but I know you are there.
I can feel you!
I feel your heat in contrast to my cool moisture.
I feel the pulse in your veins and the force you exude.
Tiny invisible currents that you cannot feel,
Yet I can!
I feel the hole you leave in me by your passing,
particles of me swirling and trailing in your wake,
before I reform to fill the void you created.
Why is it you are here when your kindred lay at rest?
You do not hasten your passage through me as so many before have done.
You move slowly and steadily.
With me, becoming part of me.
What is your story son of Man?
I will know soon enough!
I have existed since the beginning and I will be there at the end,
Burned away in one land, only to reform in another
Eventually I will come to know everything.
The stories I could tell if I had but lips to form words or hands to hold quill.
I have neither! so I hold the world's history in untold stories of elation and horror, war and famine, pleasures and pain.
All the stories of all the years.
Never to be spoken only remembered.
! It matters not !
It is time to know your story son of Man.
For as you have become part of me, I have become part of you.
With every breath you inhale I fill your mouth, your nostrils and your lungs.
Absorbing a little of your story with each breath you take,
To be shared with my whole upon release.
All the pieces formed to complete the story of you so far.
Soon we are to part as the earth begins to warm.
You will not even realise you were part of me and I you,
But I thank you for your story.
It will be stored secret and safe with all those others throughout the mists of time.